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Although Alinor stoutly and repeatedly denied she was in any way responsible for the advent of the sow, she was grateful for it. There was no need to think about safe subjects for conversation at dinner time. No one had any interest in any subject but the hunt. Every hoofbeat and spear and knife thrust was described and analyzed. When the head of the boar was brought in formal procession to Lord Llewelyn, his remarkable feat was sung by a bard, with Owain hastily translating between the staves for the guests who did not understand Welsh. The head of the sow was then presented to Alinor. |
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Until that moment Ian had been very silent, partly because he was very much interested in hearing the details of the chase he had missed, and partly because he did not trust himself to speak more than a word at a time to Alinor. She had returned, much disheveled, with her hair completely loose, full of sticks and leaves, and had, like the other ladies, retired at once to put herself to rights. The rights were almost more than Ian could bear with the circumspection necessary before a crowd of people. Just as she tossed aside the torn and dusty wimple and her bloodstained riding dress, Alinor had cast off the hoyden, even cast off the lovely and lively young woman Ian had always known. Garbed in a soft, deep-green tunic and rich gold cotte, her eyes a little heavy-lidded with fatigue, her lips reddened by cold and exercise, Alinor suddenly presented to Ian an image of sultry sexuality. He did not know where to |
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